Not Just Another Bar Fight
by Mordred LeFay
Summary: Ok I lied. There is a sequel to Muninn (I just didn't know it at the time). On their journey through Canada, Raven and Logan stop at a bar, and a band of thugs gets more than they bargained for. Ch 4 up!!
1. Not Just Another Bar Fight

Okay, so I lied. There _is_ a sequel. I was daydreaming the other day, this scenario popped into my head, and I wrote it down. Once again, I'm claiming Alternate Universe because 1. everyone seems to have their own love story w/ Wolverine and someone else (he seems to get getting it on with everyone lately) and 2. I'm sure to have fucked up logically again. Any facts that I may have neglected to add are because either I don't know about them, they don't fit with the story, or they mess it up completely. I don't own the character of Wolverine/Logan (insert standard disclaimer here). Please don't say he's out of character. I mean duh, I'm not Stan Lee, am I? Besides it's AU so relax... bub.

Also please forgive my ignorance in other areas such as Canada (I've never been there... all I know is the drinking age, and that was all the research I cared to do for a fan fic). Oh yeah, I also suck at writing fight scenes. Sorry about that.

As for Bloodraven, she's my character. So as Wolverine says somewhere in here, "Don't mess with my girl." Enjoy the story, please read and review (constructive, please, not just poking logistical holes or nagging!)

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Chapter 1:

Not Just Another Bar Fight

By Mordred LeFay

"So why are we stopping here?" Raven asked, hopping out of the truck. She clutched her coat around her, against the chill. She hated having to leave the warmth of the truck. She didn't mind it so much a few miles back, when they stopped at a Denny's for dinner. At least there had been food awaiting her there. She had a bad feeling about all bars, but especially this one. 

            Logan strode ahead, his breath forming wispy clouds in the evening chill. It was a mangy-looking place, to be sure, but it was as good as any, and probably the last one for miles.

            "Wolverine," she called, hurrying after. 

            "'Cause I need a drink," he replied, continuing on.

            "But you're the one driving," she reminded him, joining him at his side. "Unless you can use your accelerated healing factor to sober up too."

             "Quit naggin' me, woman," he growled in mock annoyance. "Ya sound like my mother."

            "You don't remember your mother," she answered, smirking. "And she never nagged you. She barely talked to—"

"You keep tellin' me secrets and there ain't gonna be nothin' to discover, will there?" He gave her a half smile as they neared the doors. "It won't be for long, promise. As for drivin', I'm sure ya know how, if it came to that. But it won't."

            She slipped ahead and turned to face him, blocking the door. "Promise?"

            "I promise. Just one, then we're out an' on the road again," he assured her, nudging her out of the way as the door opened and a large man stepped out. He almost blundered into Raven, then stumbled out of the way and gave a clumsy nod.

            "Sorry 'bout that little lady, mister," he apologized, then lumbered off toward a tractor trailer truck parked at the end of the lot. 

            "Damn truck-stop bar," Raven grumbled under her breath. "I don't like this, Logan, not at all."

            "Relax," he replied, putting his arm around her shoulders and leading her in. The place was like every stereotypical bar in Raven's mind: smoky, dark, reeking of beer and body odor. It looked like she was the only woman in the place. A few men glanced up; eyes fixed on her and made her skin crawl. She shivered and tried her best to sink into her coat, to disappear. She reassured herself with the thought that if a fight broke out, she could at least change in the confusion and settle somewhere in the rafters, out of sight.

            There was space at the bar, and they took it, Logan being sure to give Raven the seat with another empty one to the side. A few threatening glares from him kept wandering eyes to themselves. Raven folded her arms across her chest, hunched over, tried to make herself as small as possible.

            "Just remember what I told ya," Logan whispered to her. "You're a warrior, darlin'. Remember that. You could probably kick half the chumps in here to next week. Ya know how to defend yourself. Not that I won't defend ya." He gave her a wink, then became more serious. "You hafta be tough. No fear. Some of these guys can smell fear, an' they love it. It marks ya as prey. An' right now it's pouring off of you like cheap perfume." 

            "All right," she muttered, drawing herself up, straightening her shoulders. Logan could see a transformation come over her: her chin lifted, her mouth was set, her lower lip pouting out a slight bit. Her eyebrows furrowed slightly, her eyes hardening. She looked like a poised yet cold-hearted queen, beautiful and deadly.  "How's this?"

            He patted her arm proudly. The bartender shuffled over, wiping a glass with a rag. "What can I get ya?" he asked.

            "Beer," Logan replied. Raven grimaced slightly.

            "Pepsi, or Coke, whichever," she ordered. 

            "Can I see your I.D.?" the bartender responded. 

            Raven pursed her lips, raised an eyebrow. "Gee, Logan," she said, "you never told me Canada had a drinking age for soda." She dug in her purse and handed her license over. The bartender squinted at it for a moment.

            "There ain't," he responded, "an' usually I don't ask, but I had an undercover cop in here a few days back, with some kid. Law says no minors in bars. If it weren't for my instinct, I woulda lost my liquor license, so now I'm extra careful." He handed it back. "Yer twenty so yer legal anyway, 'least in Canada, though I see you're not from here. Want anything or are you stickin' with soda?"

            "Soda, thanks," Raven confirmed. The barkeep nodded and went about his business. She glanced over at Logan. "So why do you need a drink, huh? Is traveling with me too much for you, you gotta drown your sorrows?" She smirked. He rolled his eyes and took his beer from the bartender. The man handed Raven her soda. "Thanks," she said.

            "Hey, bub, where's the can?" Logan asked.

            "Thataway," the bartender responded, gesturing to the left with a grubby thumb. He went back to rubbing at the glass with his rag.

            "I'll be right back," Logan assured Raven, getting to his feet. Raven watched him make his way across the smoke-filled room, past clusters of men playing cards, smoking, laughing at bawdy stories and jokes. 

            "Hurry," she pleaded under her breath. Her discomfort hadn't waned, despite her cool façade. Raven still felt exposed. _I wonder if this is to get back at me for dragging him into that café,_ she wondered. She sipped her soda, tried her best to keep looking confident. A minute ticked by on her watch, then two. No one seemed to take any notice of her now; she sighed in relief. Besides, he'd be back soon. Shaking her head, she admonished herself for being so nervous, then jumped as a hand clamped onto her knee.

            "Hey baby, why don'cha ditch that loser yer with and come with me," a leering voice hissed into her ear. "I can take ya fer a ride in the back of my—" he broke off as the blade of Raven's switchblade dug into his belly. In less time than it took him to blink, she had reacted, slipping the knife out of her pocket and flipping it open. She nudged him with the tip, threateningly. The sharp blade pierced his shirt and threatened his skin.

            Raven seized his shirt with one hand to keep him from backing away. "I have a better idea," she hissed. "Why don't you get your filthy hand off of my knee and walk away." She saw Logan starting across the room, pushing people out of his way, alarm and rage in his eyes. She nodded her head toward him. "'Cause _he's _on his way, and he has a worse temper than me."

            Logan was already at her side, eyeing the scoundrel with murder in his eyes. "This fella bothering you, darlin'?" he growled. 

            "Nothing I can't handle," she replied smoothly, releasing the man's shirt and making a show of wiping off her hand on her coat. She flipped her knife shut with one clean motion and returned it to her pocket.

            The lowlife stumbled back, stammering, "I-I didn't know she was yer chick, man, I'm sorry!"

            "I'd like to believe that, bub," Logan snarled. "Keep yer hands off her unless ya wanna lose 'em."

            "Logan, sit down, it's okay," Raven urged him softly. She returned her steely gaze to the other, who was scrambling back to his table. 

            Logan sat down, grumbling. "Well, you handled that well," he admitted, taking a swig of his beer. 

            "I learned from the master," Raven replied, sipping her soft drink. "I don't know why you like these places. Can we go soon?"

            "Soon," he replied. "I don't think you gotta worry about that dirtbag; I think ya scared him."

            "I think _you_ scared him," she corrected. She glanced tentatively over to where the man had gone. He was angry, talking to another guy, a powerfully-built, mean-looking man who glared over at them, bared his teeth. He got up and made his way over to the bar.

            "Logan..." she whispered, scared. She tugged at his sleeve.

            "I see him," he responded in a low whisper, not looking up. "Keep cool."

            Logan pretended he didn't notice the thug until he spoke, "I hear tell you've been pickin' on one of my boys."

            Logan still didn't face the man. "Tell your boy he shouldn't be messin' with my girl." He finished his beer, set the bottle down. The man grabbed it suddenly, smashed it against the bar. Raven yelped as broken glass went flying. He shoved the jagged edge of the bottle in Logan's face.

            "No one messes with my boys and gets away with it!" he yelled. Then he cried out in pain as Logan's fist smashed into his face, then his other into the man's gut. Raven jumped back, right into the grasp of two of the man's thugs. She screamed.

            "Raven!" Logan roared. Raven thrashed in the men's arms, kicking and biting, earning herself a punch to the head for her trouble. Her vision swam and blurred, tears in her eyes. She had bitten her lip; she could taste the blood in her mouth. They dragged her outside, the brawl following them. 

            The men muscled her to the ground, tearing at her coat. "Logan!" she screamed hoarsely. Through her panic, she mustered the concentration to change. Her clothing melted into feathers, her body compacting itself. Her purse fell to the ground as she rose.

            "Wha?" one of the thugs exclaimed, confused. His confusion turned to surprise as Raven took wing, flapping furiously, higher and higher, then dove. The man cried out in pain as she latched onto his face, her claws scrabbling and gouging, her beak plunging into his eyes. "Aurgh! My eyes!" he howled in pain, groping blindly, trying to get her off of him. She was unrelenting, wings flapping, beak plunging again and again. She could feel his eye rupture, taste the vitreous humor, taste the blood, taste his intentions. They only made her more and more furious; she started on the other eye. His shrieks grew more and more frantic. She seized the eye in her beak, clamped it shut, feeling it burst. The jelly that had been his eye dribbled from her beak.

Raven's claws released the shreds of his face, he fell whimpering, she rose, flew a distance away, then landed and changed back. She whipped out her knife and threw it; it sunk itself deeply into the throat of the other thug, dropping him where he stood. Dashing over, Raven snatched up the knife, returned to the blinded man, and slit his throat like an animal. Grabbing her purse, she rose to her feet and turned...

            It was pure carnage. Four men lay in various stages of mutilation around Logan, who stood at ready, claws out, his arms bloodied to the elbows. He shook with fury, teeth clenched and eyes flashing.

_            Someone threw a punch; he caught it, crushing the man's knuckles. Another kicked him, knocking him back a step, but he quickly recoiled, coming back with a kick to the man's legs, his fist cracking ribs and laying the thug out on the ground. The other two closed in as the first two staggered to their feet, their breath coming heavily and pained, but not giving up. _

_Over the shoulder of one assailant __Logan__ watched them wrestle Raven to the ground, saw as they struck her, viciously, across the face, saw them trying to rip her clothes off. That was it; up until that point he was only using his fists, his adamantium-plated bones doing enough damage, he thought, for a pack of bar thugs. "__Logan__!" Raven screamed, her voice, so frightened, so helpless, ignited a wildfire in his blood. One of the thugs pulled a pistol, shot him in the shoulder. The bullet ripped through, managed to miss bone, and went out the other side. Wolverine's claws slid out with a *snikt*, the pain nothing to him. He slashed wildly, frenziedly, almost blindly, blood splattering his face, howling in utter rage..._

            "Logan!" Raven cried, rushing to him. He swept her up in his arms, grateful she was all right but still numb, his muscles still taut. His hands pressed into her back, blood soaking into her coat. He closed his eyes, held her tight.

            "I heard a shot," she panted. Feeling something warm and wet soaking into her shoulder, she pulled away and gasped at the wound.

            "Don't worry about it; it's already closing up," he assured her.

            "Jesus!" came a gasp from the doorway. "Somebody call the police, an ambulance, something!"

            Logan's eyes snapped open. "We gotta get out of here," he grunted. He grabbed her arm, harshly in his haste, and pulled her along. They jumped into the truck and screamed out of the parking lot.

            "Shit! Shitshitshit..." Raven panted, glancing wildly behind them. "Fuck! What are we gonna do?"

            "I'm thinkin'. You okay?" he asked, glancing over her. There was tender concern in those blue eyes, she noticed, so different from the raging beast she had seen in them back there. She nodded.

            "I guess so. I'm a bit roughed up, and I bit my lip. But it's all right now; I changed into a raven," she explained, telling him how she overcame her attackers.

            "Serves them right," he growled.

            Raven was silent for a moment. "What happened to you back there?" she blurted. "I've never seen you so ferocious, even when you're fighting." She shivered in the memory, stared nervously out the window at the side-view mirror, scanning for the flashing of police car lights. 

            She saw his hands tighten on the steering wheel, the knuckles sticking out. His hands and arms were still covered in blood. The wound in his shoulder had disappeared; only the hold in his clothing remained. _Jesus, what are we going to do about the mess?_ she wondered. _If we get pulled over we're busted for sure._

            "I—I just—when I saw them with their hands on you, heard you scream... something snapped. I couldn't control myself. I wanted to kill 'em all." His jaw clenched with the memory of it.

            "Well you sure did," Raven muttered. "Not that I'm ungrateful, mind you. Those men were gonna..." she trailed off. A muscle twitched in Logan's jaw. 

            "Seemed pretty obvious."

            "Well I did gouge out that one guy's eyes," she reminded him, wincing, scraping her tongue against the roof of her mouth to get rid of the taste. "I didn't like what else I tasted from him either."

            "He's not affiliated with anyone, is he? Magneto or somethin'?"

            Raven shook her head. "No, just a common lowlife." She shivered, crossed her arms. Logan flipped the heat on. Blood stained the knob. "Man, what the hell are we going to do about all this blood?" she murmured. "Next time you want to go into a bar, why don't I change and sit on your shoulder so they'll just think you're some weirdo with a pet raven?"

Logan chuckled. "I can't believe you're laughing at a time like this! We just murdered six men between the two of us, there are twenty plus witnesses in that bar, and you and the inside of this truck are all covered in blood! What the hell are we going to tell the police if they stop us, huh?" Raven demanded, panicking. 

            "We can tell them we were hunting," he suggested.

            "Yeah, that'll fly, we were hunting. 'So where's the kill then?' 'Uh... um...'." She gave him a skeptical look. "What are you gonna do, go kill a deer for our alibi? And how do we explain all this blood?"

----

            "I can't believe you took me seriously," Raven sighed, rubbing her temples as Logan heaved a deer into the back of the truck. 

            He wiped the blood off of himself with a rag, tossed the rag in the back of the truck. "It was a good idea, not the perfect one, but considerin' our situation," he said, shrugging. "Might as well try it. Better than no alibi."

            "With your bare friggin' hands. Claws," she corrected herself, shaking her head as she got back in the truck. "Like a wolf. Just like the old days..."

            "What did I tell ya about secrets?" he warned her jokingly.

            "You're in a damn good mood considering the night we've just had," Raven mused. She shook her head again, exasperated, confused, astonished. At least the steering wheel was clean again, or as clean as it was originally, and the dashboard as well. 

            "I am. I dunno why," he admitted. He pulled out a cigar, lit it up.

            "Yuck! Jeez, why can't you smoke pipes or something? At least the smoke smells okay, not like that stale thing." Raven wrinkled her nose and rolled the window down a crack. Icy air streamed through. "You and your stinky cigars."

            "Stale thing? This is a Havana, darlin'," he protested through a mouthful of cigar.

            "You know what it looks like you're doing," she taunted him, "looks like you're suckin' on a big—"

            "Don't say it, I'm warnin' ya," he said, cutting her short. Raven cackled, a strange sound. "I don't know why I feel good. Sure as hell I shouldn't. We had quite the scare—"

            "—killed six men."

            "Yeah, yeah. They deserved it, the scum. But I dunno..." he paused, blew a puff of smoke (courteously away from Raven), scratched his cheek with his thumb. "I guess I'm glad we made it out alive, that you're all right." He smiled at her. "I'm proud'a the way ya handled yourself back there. You're a very capable woman."

            "Thanks." Raven blushed a little. "If you teach your girls one thing, it's how to take care of ourselves." She smiled. "Don't you go neglecting them in favor of me, okay? I can keep myself out of tight places, but Kitty and Jubilee and them, they depend on you."

            "I think Kitty can get out of tighter places than you," he pointed out. "No way I'd abandon my girls. Actually," he admitted, "I was worried that you'd be upset about that. Jealous or somethin'."

            "Of course not! They need you. I know that. How could I be jealous of them?" Raven needled him. "We're like the sisterhood of Logan's Girls. You're our protector." She winked, then yawned, her mouth gaping open. "Are we gonna stop for the night?"

            "Too proud to sleep sittin' up, are we?"

            "C'mon! I want to sleep in a bed, just one night, even if it's some skeevy motel," Raven pleaded.

            Logan looked at her hard for a minute, considering. With a sigh, he gave in, "Fine. But we have to drive a bit first. There's a reason I headed the way we came when we left. That's the way they'll tell the police we went; they won't know we turned around again. Still, they'll be searchin' in all directions, so we'd best keep a move on for a few more hours at least. Besides, there's a place I know where they'll let us stay. I stayed there from time to time when I was hunting; we can unload that deer there too."

            "Where is it?"

            "Some hunting lodge. 'Old Man' Stevens turned it into a bed and breakfast sorta place for hunters and hikers passin' through. If we're lucky, that deer back there'll pay for our lodging."

            "Sounds better than some random motel at any rate," Raven declared. "All right then, I'll just take a little nap." She lay her head back and closed her eyes.

----

            Logan sat parked in the lot outside the lodge, finishing his cigar. He watched Raven sleep, drinking in her beauty with his eyes. The faint porch light illuminated her face, lit it up like a pale moon. Her lashes were like black lace, her hair falling around her face like cobwebs or feathers. Her lips curved slightly; he ached to kiss them, but didn't want to wake her just yet, just watched the gentle rise and fall of her chest. She was worth all the trouble, all the trouble in the world. He thought of the four men he had killed for her that night, knew that he would gladly kill hundreds more in her name. He loved her like he'd never loved another; not his protective love for Rogue or Kitty or Jubilee, not his fleeting love for Jean, nothing had been like what he was feeling now.

            Gently, he stroked her cheek, kissed the top of her head. She sighed and stirred to wakefulness in his arms. "I'm up," she slurred, slumping against him.

            "We're here, darlin'," he whispered, shaking her gently. She yawned and opened her eyes, rubbed them. She smiled sleepily.

            "Good," she murmured, then surprised him with a kiss. Her tongue slid briefly against his lips, tickled the corner of his mouth.

            He pulled back reluctantly, chuckled softly. "Save it for the room," he advised, opening his door and jumping out. She followed suit, and the two made for the door of the lodge, Raven leaning against him, still half-asleep.

            An elderly woman sat behind the desk, reading a well thumbed "Fishing" magazine. She looked up when she heard the bell. "Evenin', ma'am," Logan greeted her. "Is Mr. Stevens in?"

            "No, he's sick with the flu, poor thing," she replied, heaving herself off of her stool. She was a large woman, but compact, with steel-gray hair and well-muscled arms. "What can I do you for?"

            "I'd like a room for the night, if you've got a vacancy. I have a deer, was going to offer it as payment," Logan began to explain, pointing out the window to the truck, but the woman waved her hand at him.

            "Don't you worry, I know all about Bill's arrangements. He made sure of it, before he'd let me take the reins!" She chuckled softly. "This your girl?"

            "Yes ma'am."

            "Well can't let you room together unless you're married. I don't know what Bill says about it but I've got my morals." The woman stood firm, her arms crossed on her large bosom. 

            "Yeah, she's my wife," Logan said, smooth as anything. Luckily, Raven's sleepiness hid her shock.

            "She ain't got a ring."

            Logan sighed and leveled a glance at the woman. "Ma'am, if I'm payin' you with venison, what makes ya think I've got any money for a wedding ring?"

            She put her hands up in a gesture of protest for her innocence. "My apologies, I don't mean to pry. But I had to ask." She turned to the wall, plucked a key from a hook. "Number five, 'round the corner, end of the hall on your right. Breakfast is at 8 o'clock, checkout at noon. I'll have one of my boys get that deer from your truck." She smiled at the pair. "Pleasant dreams."

----

            "'She's my wife,' eh?" Raven remarked, towel-drying her hair. The shower had refreshed her; she felt reborn, scrubbed clean of the dirt, the stink of travel, the blood, the guilt. She wasn't accustomed to killing, although this wasn't the first time, and it still left her shaky, but she chose to view it as an extermination of vermin rather than murder. She knew she was just justifying it, trying to make herself feel better, but better them than her.

            "Well, what did ya want me to say? After what happened tonight, I ain't lettin' ya outta my sight." Logan sat on the edge of the bed, wearing only his jeans. He yawned.

"Oh, now who's tired?" Raven scolded playfully, balled up her towel and threw it at him. It hit him in the face; he picked it up and scowled at her. But the scowl didn't hold long, and soon he was laughing. Raven laughed and jumped at him; he caught her, her momentum knocking him back onto the bed. Raven nuzzled his face like a cat, stubble on his chin scratching her skin.

"Yeah, and now you're awake." Logan growled in reply After a minute or so, Raven pulled back, her hair tickling his face. She looked supremely happy, but it began to fade; she almost looked guilty. "What is it?" Logan asked.

"I'm sorry about tonight," Raven blurted out suddenly. "Jesus, I had no idea we'd get into that much trouble because of me."

            Logan sighed, frowned at her. "Look, I was the one who dragged ya into that bar. It ain't your fault some scumbucket put his hands where they don't belong. As for trouble—" he smiled fondly at her, "—you're worth it. I'm serious, Raven. Okay?"

            "Okay," she agreed, snuggling up to him. "Although I don't know why."

            "Because I love you," he whispered, kissing her. "Relax, darlin'. I seem t' remember someone tellin' me 'stop thinking and just feel' a little while ago," he reminded her. 

Giving him her best seductive smile, Raven kissed him passionately. He returned it hungrily, kneading his hands down her back. "I love you too," she whispered as she broke off the kiss. She ran her fingers through his hair. "Funny, even though we've been spending a lot of time traveling together, we haven't had much time to ourselves."

He held her tightly. "Tomorrow we continue to Alberta, right?"

            "Right," she murmured. She barely heard him, she was too caught up in bliss. _He said he loved me!_

            "So let's take advantage of the time we have," Logan whispered, running his fingers through her soft, dark hair, "and spend tonight in the present." He gently drew her face down to his for another sweet kiss. "'Cause believe me, darlin', that's all I'm thinkin' about right now."

----

To be continued...

(seriously, a little bit more pops into my head each day. Weird, huh? Don't forget to review!)


	2. On the Road Again

Note: The character I mention, Mariko (name corrected as of 12/16), is someone my "research team" told me about. So as far as I know, she actually existed in the X-men universe, an old flame of Logan's. If I got her name wrong, I'm sorry, but that's the name I was told. All other mistakes are due to ignorance. I apologize in advance.

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Chapter 2 – On the Road Again

--

            It was still dim when Raven awoke, but growing lighter; the starched linen curtains seemed to glow faintly. She blinked her eyes; they were sticky from sleep, and it was hard to get them open. Logan's face, no more than a few inches from her own, came slowly into focus. He still slept, his brow furrowed slightly. Raven hoped his dreams were peaceful; Rogue had told her what happened to her, so long ago, when she woke him from evil dreams. Raven kissed him, and the lines smoothed out, his face becoming untroubled and calm. 

            She closed her eyes once more and snuggled close, relishing the feeling of his strong arms holding her tightly to him. The night before had been wonderful, amazing. He was passionate, intense, almost animalistic, yet tender and loving. She cherished the memory, hoped there would be many more like it, and like this one. She could hear some of the winter birds chirping outside. It was growing lighter outside, promising a bright, clear day. She was warm and safe and comfortable, together with the one she loved. Raven sincerely hoped this wasn't going to be their last moment of peace together; she worried about what the day would bring.

            Would he even remember? She had no idea if this would make a difference, that his memory would be jogged any better by seeing the places he had been. After all, if he had healed everything away, sealed up parts of his brain, what good would any quasi-psychological methods do? And if it didn't do any good, what then? Try at the next place? Give up? _And what would that mean for us?_ She wondered. _He loves me, or thinks he does, but what will happen if things don't pan out? Even if I tell him everything... well what use am I then?_

            Raven extricated herself from Logan's protective embrace and got up. She moved over to the window and pulled the curtains back to look outside. The window looked out into the woods. Bare trees dusted with snow stood among clusters of evergreens. The sky was a perfect blue. A good omen, she hoped. There was also another way it could go: he could remember, and the knowledge could be so terrible that he'd just reflexively seal it away again, or worse... she didn't want to even think about him going mad, or going feral, or sealing everything away altogether. She didn't think she'd be able to bear looking into his eyes and seeing them stare blankly at her, seeing her as a stranger.

            Cold emanated from the window, and she crossed her arms over her chest, hugging herself against it. Suddenly she felt very afraid and alone.

            _Raven?_ came a voice in her mind, a voice she recognized.

            _Professor?_ she thought in response. She always felt strangely naked when the professor spoke to her mentally, and now that she was actually naked it felt even stranger.

            _Raven, I'm not interrupting anything am I? I just wanted to check in and see if you two are doing all right._

            Raven smiled, though she knew he couldn't see it. _We're fine. __Logan__'s still asleep._

            _Have you gotten anywhere?_

_            No, we haven't gotten to __Alberta__ yet. _She tried not to think of the trouble they'd had the night before, which of course didn't work. She winced, waited for Xavier to mention it. He didn't. _We're heading out this morning though, after breakfast._

_            Well I'm glad to hear you two are doing well. Good luck. Oh, I almost forgot: Kitty asked me to forward a message to you. She says, "You lucky girl! Make sure to take care of our Wolvie or we'll kick your butt when you get back! We miss you! Love, the Sisterhood." _ There was a pause. _The Sisterhood, hm?_

_            She really said that? Well tell her I'm doing the best I can, and I won't let them down._

_            I will._ He sounded amused. _Good luck, Raven. I hope everything works out._

_            Thank you, Professor._ The connection ended. Raven jumped as Logan embraced her.

            "Didn't mean to startle ya," he apologized.

            "Yes you did; you snuck up on me," she admonished him lightly. She leaned back against his chest. "I was talking to Professor X."

            "And what did ol' Chuck have to say?"

            "Nothing much, just checking up. He wished us luck, gave me a message from Kitty—"

            "Really?"

            "Yeah. She told me to take care of you or else," Raven laughed. "Although it's _you_ who's taking care of _me._ So, should we get a move on?"

            "In a minute," Logan murmured, kissing her neck. He held her close, one arm around her chest, the other around her waist, his hand resting lightly on her stomach. Raven felt a stab of anxiety. They hadn't used any protection the night before, didn't have any. She had lost her birth control pills sometime during the scuffle at the bar; they must have fallen out of her purse. _Well I only skipped one night; the chances are still in my favor,_ she assured herself. _God I hope so at least._

            "You just tensed up. What're ya thinkin' about?" he asked.

            "Nothing," she sighed, "just general worrying." She withdrew reluctantly from the embrace and started getting dressed. Shrugging, he pulled on his clothes as well.

            "Honey, I don't know why ya worry so much. Everything's gonna be fine," Logan assured her. "Now let's get some breakfast and get outta here."

            "I sure hope so," she murmured to herself, under her breath.

----

            An hour later they were back on the road, making their way west. The day stayed bright, though not any warmer than it had been. Raven shivered; the truck hadn't quite warmed up yet, and although Logan was smoking another cigar, the cold kept her from cracking the window. She was in better spirits than she had been, though her stomach flip-flopped whenever she thought of what may lie ahead. 

            "Hey, I have a question," she piped up.

            "Shoot."

            "Why didn't you just tell that lady that I was your daughter? You wouldn't have had to make up all that stuff about the ring and being married and all."

            Logan thought, puffed on his cigar some more. "If it had been one of the other girls, I would've gotten a separate room," he replied. "Why the hell would I be sleepin' in the same bed as my grown daughter?"

            "Good point. Man I'm an idiot," Raven laughed, embarrassed, shaking her head. "What the hell is wrong with me? It's like I can't keep my head straight lately. Too many other things I'm thinking about, I guess."

            "Well we did have a scare last night too. That'll do it to anyone."

            "Mm," she agreed. "Damn, changing into a raven is useful, but you know what I wish I had? A katana. I remember our sparring, that was fun."

            "You were good at it too. 'Course if you had a katana, ya know ya wouldn't be able to just carry it around everywhere," he reminded her.

            "I know," Raven sighed. "But maybe I could take it on missions or something. That would kick so much ass. Even if I just had it to hang on my wall or something."

            "Tell ya what," Logan offered, "I'll get you one."

            "A real one?"

            "Yeah, a real Japanese one, not one of those made in Spain things."

            "Man, whatever Lola wants, Lola gets, huh?" Raven chuckled. 

            "Heh. Sure, next time I go to Japan," he promised. Logan's eyes got a faraway look; he looked pained. "I didn't go last year," he muttered.

            Raven reached over and squeezed his knee. "Well, you can make it up by taking two body parts from that bastard this year, right? Like his balls, if you haven't yet."

            "Bloodraven..."

            "I know, I'm sorry. I know how much it means to you. And no, before you ask, I don't think there's anything weird about that. I don't know why you think I'm such a jealous girl."

            "I wasn't gonna—" he protested.

            "Yeah, you were. Geez, you say _I_ worry too much," Raven marveled. "I know you, remember? I know what you felt for her, I know why you made that vow, I know why you carry it out faithfully—"

            "Not last year. I failed."

            "You're too hard on yourself. I'm sure that Mariko would understand, from what I know of her through you. I mean hell, it's not like it just slipped your mind. You were otherwise occupied. Logan—" her grip tightened, and he looked at her, "the dead don't need our help as much as the living do, remember that."

            "How did ya get so wise, eh?"

            Raven folded her arms and gave him a smug smile. "I think you taught me a lot more than you're aware of, Wolverine." She smiled at him fondly. "I know you'd do the same for any one of us. What reason would I have to feel jealous, eh? Hell, you killed four men for me and I'm still alive and unharmed. You know I'd even offer to help, but I know it's a personal thing." 

            They were silent for a while, Logan driving, his gaze straight ahead, lost deep in thought. Raven played absently with her knife and watched the scenery go by out the window. "It's creepy when I think about how much you know about me," he said, breaking the silence. 

            "Yeah?" Raven replied, still leaning her head against the window, gazing off into nothingness. "Does it make you feel exposed? 'Cause it makes me feel like I've been reading your diary or something. Only it's a diary you misplaced, or wrote in a language you've long forgotten and only I can understand.

            "There are some things that a person shouldn't know about another person, especially a person you love. Not just everything about old flames, old relationships, but how it felt, what you were thinking. It's a burden sometimes." She rubbed her forehead with her fingers as though she had a headache. "Like I said before, it's like some kind of freaky mind-meld, like there's no difference between my memories and yours."

            "Darlin', if anyone hasta have my memories, I'm glad it's you," Logan told her. "Ya don't use 'em against me. You wanna help me."

            "You're glad we got together?"

            "Yeah—"

            "No regrets?"

            "No, Raven. Why are you asking?" he turned his head to look at her, confused. Shaking his head, he pulled over to the side of the road and shut the truck off. "All right, I ain't startin' this truck up again until ya tell me what the hell's wrong with you. It's like everything's comin' together and you're fallin' apart."

            "I don't know," she whined. "I just can't shake this bad feeling. I'm worried, Logan."

            "Worried about what? Worried about what'll happen if I remember? That I won't need you anymore?" He took her by the shoulders. "Raven, I'll always need you. You complete me, and it's not just 'cause of the memories you hold. You're my memory, but that's not all that you are to me!" He was angry now, and frustrated. "What can I do to make you believe me?" he demanded.

            Logan released Raven's shoulders and shed his coat. "What are you doing?" she asked. "Logan?" He didn't answer her, rolled up his sleeve. *_Snikt__*_ the claws slid out. On his face was an expression of fierce determination. "Logan!" Raven cried. He steeled himself and, with one swift motion, drew the blades across his bicep.

            Fearful tears streamed down Raven's face as she watched blood well up from the wounds. "Why?" she wept.

            "Taste it, Bloodraven. Quick, before it heals," he growled, teeth clenched against the pain. "I want you to know, and I guess this is the only way I can prove it to you."

            She leaned forward, trembling, eyes closed, stuck out her tongue and pressed it against the wounds, licking up the blood. She tasted his emotions, his memories, his thoughts. It overpowered her; usually tasting prompted only a quick loss of orientation, a momentary flicker, but these memories added to and overlapped the ones that were already such a part of her. It was like throwing gasoline onto a flame. She doubled over, crying out. The old memories melted into the background, the new ones rising up like endless freeze frames, with audio and emotional feeds, thoughts running like a tangled commentary. She could taste what he had been feeling in her dorm room, what he had felt all along since he saved her, what he thought of everything, what he had been feeling the night before, what he was thinking now, motives, purposes, intentions. It hit her like a wave and sucked her under. He loved her, that was certain; it was the most certain thing of all. But he was hurt too, hurt that she worried, hurt that she doubted, hurt that she didn't trust him.

            "I do trust you!" she gasped against the flood. She shook with sobs, drowning, waiting for it to subside, to sink to a tolerable level. "James, I'm so sorry!"

            "Raven, darlin', are you okay?" he asked, concerned. He held her tightly, stroked her hair. "I didn't mean to hurt ya, darlin', I swear. Please tell me you're all right."

            Raven reached out with a trembling hand, rubbed his arm. The skin was smooth, unharmed, unscarred. "You hurt yourself for me. Why?" Tears still streamed down her cheeks; he wiped them away, kissed them away. 

            "Why ask questions that ya know the answers to? You oughta understand I'd do anything for you," he whispered fiercely. 

            "And here you were just saying how creepy it was that I knew as much as I did. Now I know everything up to this moment. You trust me so much," she murmured. "I wish I could do the same for you."

            "I don't need some kinda transfer of memories to know you, Raven, or to know that your love for me is true," Logan replied. "Now please, stop worryin'. If we're gonna do this thing, I need you." He looked deep into her honey-colored eyes. 

            "All right, I'm okay," Raven replied, drawing away and wiping her eyes on her sleeve. "I'm not afraid anymore. I can do this. I'll be there for you, Logan," she promised. "And I'm sorry—"

            "Hush. Let's just get goin'." He started up the truck again and pulled back onto the road. "Everything's gonna be fine."

----

_To be continued..._

---

I'm not sure what I'm doing for chapter 3 yet. I don't want to go revealing all the plot of the _Origins_ book. For those who are enjoying this series, you'll be happy to know I've thought of at least 3 sequel stories. I don't know how quickly I'll be getting around to all of them though... 

I hope you liked chapter 2. Please remember to review!


	3. Revelations

Author's note: There are two quotes from _Origins._ All my info is from that book, so yes it is based on something that Marvel actually did. I'm sorry if this story seems to be running out of steam. I'm trying to wrap it up but mention everything I want to mention. Chapter 4 should be the last.

----------------------

  


Chapter 3 – Revelations

---

The Howlett estate, as it was still called, was not difficult to find, but information about it was tougher. There were many legends still told in half-whispers, of bad luck, curses, and the string of tragedies that followed it since its construction. The grandest estate in Alberta (some said in all of Canada) was now no more than charred ruins, a blackened, jagged skeleton in the snow on the hill. 

They said the fire happened in the mid-80s, that some rich businessman (who held little stock in superstitious legends) had moved in with his family. The wife had been "one of those fruity new-age dabblers," and always claimed she sensed presences in the old place. She had, they said, been possessed by the ghost of Elizabeth Howlett at some séance she threw for their high society friends. One by one, the family was stricken with all sorts of misfortune. The eldest son went mad, the man lost his business to an unscrupulous partner. Then, one autumn night, the whole place was ablaze with a strange fire that couldn't be put out. They had to let it burn until it gutted the place and then went out mysteriously on its own. The investigation could reveal no definite cause: speculation ranged from a careless servant to the eldest boy or the possessed wife. It was impossible to know for certain: the entire household had perished in the hungry flames.

After that people tended to stay away from the big, ruined house on the hill. Children didn't dare play near it, animals instinctually shied away from it, and no one bid on the land or expressed any desire to even tear the ruins down, much less build anew. 

Logan and Raven managed to loosen the tongues of a few older folks in the town, many of whom had lived their entire lives there and remembered stories from their parents and grandparents. Slowly at first, then with greater ease, they gathered peoples' memories. Raven claimed they were doing research for a book. "I'm no expert on journalism, but shouldn't you be taking notes?" one astute woman asked.

"I have a photographic memory," Raven explained, tapping her temple with her finger. "It's all up here."

----

  


"The Howletts? They were a particularly strange clan and no mistake," one particularly helpful elderly gent informed them. "My pa was friends with one of the hired men. Master John was a real down-to-earth fella, they said, but his father, that was another story." He paused to take a sip of his coffee. The three of them huddled in a booth in the near empty diner, having a late lunch. The walls were draped festively with garland and wreaths; it was Christmas Eve day, and Raven had completely forgotten, a rare enough thing. 

It would be the first Christmas since she joined the X-Men that she hadn't spent at the mansion. Logan had never been very big on Christmas, and he didn't want to delay their journey. It was bad enough they had to cut it short; he wasn't about to fail in his vow another year. He had told Raven the night before that they'd have to continue their journey when he got back from Japan. She had protested that with British Columbia the next province over, they may as well go there while they were relatively nearby, but he was adamant. He would bring her back to Westchester and return in late January "in time for your birthday," he promised. It would be her 21st, and he joked that he was going to take her out drinking to celebrate. After what had happened in that bar, she wasn't looking forward to going to another, no matter what kind of bar it was.

The man continued, "That old man was the meanest, most miserly old codger alive, my pa said. He and his son argued constantly over how to run the estate. The eldest boy took ill and died soon after they built the place, though I've heard rumors that suggest more sinister reasons for his disappearance. The mistress of the house went mad after that. The younger boy was sickly, I remember that. It wasn't a happy household, to be sure." 

"Whatever happened to them?" Raven asked. She glanced surreptitiously at Logan; his face betrayed nothing. 

The old man sighed and rolled his cup back and forth between his hands. "My pa said one night in autumn, same time of year as that fire was so many years later, in fact, there was an altercation at the house. Some servant the master had been having problems with had been thrown out that day, and that night he broke in and shot the master and his wife. What happened to the young lad, no one knows." He hunched forward, his voice hushed, "But my pa told me that when they got in the house, the servant was lying there dead, his chest and stomach torn open like with claws or somethin', and his son had three deep gashes across his face. People say that the young master was a werewolf or some such thing, that after his parents' murder he joined the wolves. Some say he runs with 'em still but that's a load of cock-and-bull if you ask me. He'd likely be dead by now. Few men live to be that old, werewolf or no." He finished his story and gulped up the rest of his coffee; Raven took his distraction as an opportunity to raise an eyebrow at Logan. The old man rose.

"Pardon me, but I ought to be gettin' home. Good luck with your research," he said, bidding them farewell.

"Yes, thank you for your help," Raven called after him. He left, and she and Logan spent a few moments in silence. 

"Shall we go take a look?" she asked.

"I suppose," he agreed, laying down some money for the bill. Raven took him by the hand, and they left.

----

Even ruined and crumbling, it was imposing, and Raven could still see it in her memory, the enormous house that seemed to have hundreds of rooms. They strolled arm in arm around the grounds as the sky grew dark and snow began to fall, their breath making clouds in the air as Raven told Logan all she knew about this part of his past, all she remembered. She gestured to places, areas of the house and the grounds and explained what memories they tied to, feeling like some sort of temporal tour guide. Logan nodded, but he said nothing most of the time. She could tell he was trying to remember, and once in a while a comment of hers would seem to register. One by one, things took hold.

Raven mentioned the bad things hesitantly, nervous about what reaction they would provoke. Recognition showed on his face at a few mentions, but flickered and died. Of course the most horrible memories would be buried quite deep. She was almost relieved when he admitted he couldn't remember the worst parts at all. 

"That man mentioned claws," Logan said, "but I thought I didn't have claws until the Weapon X project."

"You did," Raven explained, "real claws, claws of bone. They're still there, just plated with adamantium like the rest of your bones. That research team probably did you a favor," she mused. "It probably hurts a bit less to have blades slicing your skin than to have bone claws punching through."

  


_"Mama, I... I can't feel my hands! Rose? What's happened to my hands?"_

  


Raven closed her eyes, clenching her teeth in remembered pain. Her hands twitched in her pockets. 

  


_"You are not my son! You're a monster... an animal!"_

  


It was hard enough telling him about it, difficult enough for her to deal with the pain of memory; secretly, Raven was glad he couldn't remember most of what she was telling him.

"It's good to at least know what happened," Logan admitted as they stood next to where the hedge maze had been. It was overgrown now, a tangled wilderness, dusted lightly by the gentle snowfall. Raven shivered in the cold, and he put his arm around her. They stood silently for a while, taking in the scene.

Raven broke the silence, "Do you remember Rose?"

Logan nodded slowly. "Red hair. I remember she had red hair. She was beautiful. We were friends... I loved her." Raven stiffened, although she already knew all of this. She felt ashamed of the ache in her stomach at those words. Logan's eyes squeezed shut. "I killed her, didn't I?" he whispered. 

"Yes," Raven breathed.

"I don't know how or why, but I did." His voice was pained.

"It was an accident," Raven assured him, but her thoughts were far away, remembering that day. "You went feral for a long time after that. It was the second time you forgot everything. Ran with the wolves true enough."

Logan turned to Raven and pulled her close. She embraced him tightly. "Darlin', let's go," he said. He sounded unbelievably weary and looked drained, older somehow; the lines in his face seemed more pronounced. Raven felt sick at heart; perhaps it was a mistake after all, this journey. They turned and left the ruins of the past behind.

----

  


"You're quiet tonight," Raven remarked. "More than usual, I mean." They lay in bed together, in the ratty motel room that was the only lodging they could get this Christmas Eve night. _Better than the stable of an inn,_ Raven admitted, _but not by much. Much better than freezing to death in the truck._ At least it was clean. She wished more than ever that they were back at the mansion, drinking egg nog with Professor X and listening to Jean bitch about the lights on the tree being messed up. 

"James, I'm sorry," Raven whispered, burying her face into the pillow. "This was a mistake, wasn't it? I'm just making things worse." She was miserable. It seemed everything had gone wrong, not in the way she feared it would, but wrong nonetheless. She swallowed hard against the painful lump in her throat.

Seeing her distress, Logan cradled her to his chest, trying to soothe her. "Bloodraven, darlin', don't cry. I mean, it hurts, but it's gonna hafta hurt. I knew from the start I was gonna learn terrible things about my past. It ain't your fault." He stroked her hair, her face, kissed her tears away. 

"It's Christmas," she wept, "and here we are, thousands of miles away from the only home we know, in some shitty motel--"

"Honey, I'm just glad I'm with you. It doesn't matter where we are; we're together," he reminded her. "Now let's get some rest. If you don't fall asleep, Santa'll never come." He smiled.

"Ha ha," she replied sarcastically, but she gave him the tiniest of smiles.

"That's my girl," Logan murmured proudly, kissing her cheeks. "We're just tired is all. Everything looks bleak at night; we'll be fine in the morning." Holding each other tight for warmth and comfort, they soon fell asleep.

----


	4. Epilogue: All I Want for Christmas is Yo...

Author's note: This is it. The end. Apology in advance for Jean Grey fans: Raven does chew her out in this, but it's only because after reading Essential Wolverine 3 and how Jean nags him all the time, it's something I'd want to say to her. The two actually will end up being good friends, if I ever write that far. Anyway, enjoy and please review! It's the only way I know anyone reads these things!

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Epilogue: All I Want for Christmas is You

  


The storm that had started Christmas Eve continued into Christmas morning; the roads were mushy with slush, which the falling temperature was beginning to change into ice. It was sleeting now, and it looked like it wasn't going to let up anytime soon. Raven sighed and shut the door. _I guess we're staying put today,_ she thought, her heart sinking. Shivering, she climbed back into bed and snuggled close to Logan's still slumbering form. _Maybe that's not such a bad thing, _she reconsidered. He looked better than he had last night, more at peace. _A good night's sleep will do wonders._ Despite the revelations of the day before, he hadn't been troubled by any nightmares, the specters held at bay by what? Truth? Perhaps she had done some good after all.

Raven watched Logan sleep and thought about how a year ago she never would have dared to hope for this. Even now it seemed like a dream. Suddenly things didn't seem so bad at all. After all here she was, alone in bed with the man she loved, and he loved her. She wasn't lonely. So what that they weren't back at the mansion? Wasn't this better anyway? Stuck in a snowstorm but safe, together and in love, than back at the mansion and lonely, eyeing happy couples viciously and staring with pain and longing at one who was so close, and yet untouchable. Raven sighed happily. Wasn't this a moment of peace, like the one a few days back, that she had wished for? 

Logan looked younger somehow, incredibly handsome. Even in the deepest sleep his arm was around her, holding her close. Raven absently traced patterns in his chest hair. "Mmpf..tickles..." he slurred sleepily. 

"Sorry," she whispered, covering his face with kisses. "Can't help it. You're like a big furry teddy bear." Logan snored softly. "Wake up, sweetheart. Merry Christmas!"

Logan yawned, his mouth gaping open as though his jaw would unhinge. "Merry Christmas, darlin'. You seem happier this morning." He blinked and rubbed his eyes.

"I am," she admitted. "I guess I just realized how lucky I've been lately." Raven gave him a meaningful look. 

Logan smiled and kissed her, letting his actions speak for themselves. "I'm glad you're feelin' better. You hungry?"

"Yeah. Too bad there's no room service, huh?"

"I'll go see what I can do," Logan replied, rolling over to get out of bed. "Well look what we have here," he exclaimed in mock surprise, reaching towards the floor. "Looks like ol' Saint Nick came through fer us after all." He turned back around holding a box of Dunkin' Donuts and wearing his most devilish grin. "And he knows your favorite too."

"Logan, you sweetheart!" Raven cried, showering him with kisses. "When did you do this?"

"Early this mornin', while you were fast asleep. I think we'll be stayin' here today; the truck was slidin' all over the road. But it was worth it for my Christmas angel." He nuzzled her ear.

"I'm surprised I didn't wake up when you left or came in," Raven mumbled through a mouthful of donut. "You know what a light sleeper I am."

"And ya know how stealthy I can be," Logan reminded her as she finished her treat. "Whoops. You dropped powdered sugar all over yourself."

"Well then," Raven purred seductively, "why don't you help clean me off?"

Logan grinned and bent to lick the sugar slowly off her skin. "Just when I thought ya couldn't get any sweeter," he said in a low growl. "So, how should we celebrate our first Christmas together, darlin'?" he asked, caressing her soft skin.

"Oh," Raven responded, winking, "I have a few ideas." She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him down on top of her. 

----

  


"I just realized I never went Christmas shopping for anyone," Raven murmured. They lay together blissfully, listening to the howling of the wind outside. Apparently the weather wasn't getting any better, but they didn't much care either.

"You're my Christmas present," Logan replied.

Raven giggled, "Well that works. I wonder what everyone's doing right now."

"Well," Logan considered, "Besides Storm rustlin' up a Christmas blizzard, I bet anything that Jeannie's having multiple heart attacks over the dinner." Raven swallowed hard. _Jeannie, he calls her._ She had to admit she didn't like it.

"Raven? What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Oh, don't tell me you're jealous of Jean. Do we hafta go through this again?" Logan asked, glancing warningly at where he had cut himself the other day. 

"No. I'm sorry, it's just... I have nothing against Jean, but you were pretty taken with her and I guess it still makes me tense," Raven admitted. "I mean she's beautiful, powerful, intelligent--"

"So are you. Raven, ya know that she's just a friend to me. If I flirt with her once in a while, it's only to annoy Scott. And I won't do that anymore; ol' Cyke will catch on t' that soon anyway, since I can't be madly in love with Jean if I'm madly in love with you. And," he reminded her, "I _am_ madly in love with you."

she replied. It's just, well she and I have had our differences.

You mean when you told her off for getting after me?

  


_I just want you to know I don't approve of this. He's changing, Raven, and I don't like it. Professor X and I tried to help him before and it only made things worse._

_ I know that, Jean, remember? So what you're saying is that we should keep Logan from finding out the truth, is that it?_

_ It's for his own good._

_ Who are you to say what's good for him, Jean? He's a big boy, and you're not his mother._

_ I don't like your tone, Raven. And you're not his mother either._

_ Who says I'm trying to be? I just want to help him._

_ How do you know that this is helping him? What if he goes mad? What if he goes feral?_

_ So that' s it; you're afraid, Jean? Well I'm not. They haven't driven me mad yet._

_ They're not your memories._

_ They may as well be. You see, your problem is you don't understand him. You're too busy holding him back in fear of what might happen._

I _don't understand him? I've known him for years—_

_ If you really knew him you wouldn't keep after him like you do, trying to make him feel ashamed of himself for feeling something he can't help— _

_ He has to learn how to control himself._

_ I think he's doing a pretty good job of controlling himself, considering. What would you rather have, him asking you to set up danger room scenarios so he can take it out safely on imaginary foes, or going crazy and taking out innocents?_

_ Well, Jean? I'm waiting._

_ I still think you're making a mistake._

_ You want him to go through life as a cripple? Incomplete, not knowing where he came from?_

_ What are you poking around in there for, Jean? Hoping to find something you missed? I don't like being mind-read any more than Logan does. No, I'm not afraid of him. I can take care of myself._

_ Yes I trust him. More than I trust you. You know what that's supposed to mean, Jean. You're a married woman, you'd better keep your distance. Is that what this is about? You used to be his conscience and his confidant, and now you think I've stolen your gig, huh?Maybe he decided I was a better choice.  
You know why that is, don't you Jean?  
Because I accept him for what he is. I don't scold or nag him every time he doesn't fit into my definition of how a civilized' man should act.  
You and the Professor, all you intellectuals sweating and fearing as you think of what horrible monster Logan's going to turn into. But I know who he really is.  
Sans memory blocks, implants and erasures. I know, and I'm not afraid. I think _you're_ the ones with trust issues._

_ fine. Do whatever you feel you have to._

_ I will, thank you. Glad to have your blessing._

_ I just hope you know what you're doing._

_ I'm aiding the man I love, Jean._

Raven sighed. I had to, Logan. I was sick of her acting like you're a tantrum-throwing child. But hey, that's all in the past, right?

Mm. The past, Logan echoed softly. He glanced over at Raven. She was laying on her stomach, hugging a pillow beneath her head. Nice tattoos, by the way.

She chuckled, Don't tell me you didn't notice them until now.

No. A long time ago. Remember that time we went to that bar with the karaoke? (*read With or Without You for the whole story!!*)

And I wore that slutty shirt? She smiled slyly. I remember. That was fun.

He traced the symbols with his finger. Blood. Raven. Cute. But what about this one? he asked, stroking the small of her back.

Wolf? Guess, babe.

Logan raised an eyebrow. Wrong animal.

It's not that simple, silly. Did you think I'd be so obvious to get a tattoo of wolverine' in Japanese when you know the language?

So what does it mean, oh mysterious one? He smirked.

It's one of your good memories, of running wild and hunting with wolves, the only time you could really let yourself go without fear, in the early days, Raven explained. But here I go, getting nostalgic about something I've never done. She rolled over onto her side. Did you know I was singing to you that night?

I knew. I just didn't believe it, I guess. Logan smiled. You have a beautiful voice.

Thank you, she replied, blushing. That was so much fun, even though we had to drag Remy out cause he was so drunk. She sighed. Sometimes I wonder how things could have changed so much. Not that I'm complaining, she clarified, hugging him, but we're so scattered now. Do you ever wish things could be the way they were before?

Personally I'm looking forward to the future, Logan told Raven, holding her close. And as for right now, let's just enjoy it.


End file.
